


Constellations

by 2am_limbo



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Adam Parrish Is Trying His Best, Adam Parrish Loves Ronan Lynch, Adam Parrish-centric, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Ronan Lynch Loves Adam Parrish, Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish Fluff, Soft Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:08:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27661822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2am_limbo/pseuds/2am_limbo
Summary: Adam’s first night at St. Agnes was miserable.Adam thought he would feel different, that somehow he would be different, but he didn’t. He didn’t feel much of anything at all except for a deep longing that he couldn’t quite place. He kept hearing things, creaking in the walls and exposed rafters, and he had to consciously remind himself that it was an old building, an old room next to the drafty attic of the old church.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 18
Kudos: 121





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Faerlie_certain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faerlie_certain/gifts).



> For my friend Faerlie_Certain... See, look at it as a new adventure and with a different POV. 😉

Adam’s first night at St. Agnes was miserable.

Adam thought he would feel different, that somehow he would _be_ different, but he didn’t. He didn’t feel much of anything at all except for a deep longing that he couldn’t quite place. He kept hearing things, creaking in the walls and exposed rafters, and he had to consciously remind himself that it was an old building, an old room next to the drafty attic of the old church.

He thought of Ronan and all of the time he spent here not too far below, and what it meant to him, how he worshipped here, and he desperately wished that Ronan would somehow sense all of this and come.

Adam didn’t want to turn the light off, but he knew that he wouldn’t sleep with it on. _How ridiculous_ , he thought, to think he would even be sleeping. In the darkness, shadows danced across the uneven wooden floorboards and out through the drafty spaces of the dirty window. Something outside of the door creaked and groaned, and Adam’s heart stopped abruptly. He held his breath as he waited for the sound of heavy boots to meet the threshold, to hear the sound of an empty beer can begin to crush in a strong hand, and he pulled the thin blanket up over his head like he was seven years old again. He hated this place, he hated it, he hated it.

He pushed himself back against the wall and folded his thin pillow in half and pulled the blanket back down. He wasn’t going to do this to himself. Everything would be fine, they had to be, there wasn’t an alternative. Adam flipped onto his back and groaned and then decided he hated this place, even more, when his groan echoed back.

At some point in the night, it began to lightly rain, and the soft pattering eventually lulled Adam to sleep.

Minutes or hours later, Adam wasn’t sure which, there came three soft knocks on the door. Adam held his breath. The door creaked open and he heard heavy boots. He would know those boots anywhere, but with fondness and not fear.

“Parrish?”

“Ronan,” Adam exhaled his name in relief, and he could feel the tension melt away from his neck and shoulders. “Lay with me?”

Ronan came over to the side of Adam’s makeshift bed, a thin mattress sitting on the floor, kicked his boots off, and sat down next to Adam with a box.

“Housewarming gift,” Ronan said bluntly as he slid it over to Adam.

“Ron-”

“Shut up, Parrish, and take it. They’re dreamed things.”

Ronan watched Adam with a certain look in his eye that he couldn’t quite place. Adoration, maybe, or concern. Ronan was nothing if not a million contradictions, but Adam could feel it either way. Despite the words that left Ronan’s mouth, he could always feel what Ronan felt about him. It was palpable, or _disgusting_ , as Blue had once said, and Adam could choke from the meaningfulness of it tonight.

Ronan continued to watch Adam as he peered inside the box. There was a faint glow near the bottom of the box, and when he reached in to grab the object, the box shone a little brighter as little yellow and orange dots danced around when his fingers touched smooth glass. 

Adam pulled out a mason jar and immediately recognized Ronan’s fireflies from the Barns. Adam felt the back of his eyes sting.

“It’s fucking dark in here, man,” Ronan narrated. Adam reached across and placed the jar of fireflies on the cardboard box currently used as a nightstand. It illuminated his bed with a soft, faint glow, and he felt as if something warm and comforting had been released into the room like a canopy.

Next, Adam pulled out a small potted plant, unlike anything he had seen before. The pot fits perfectly in the palm of his hand, and he reached out to delicately trace the dark green leaves. Adam faintly heard Ronan’s breath catch, but he was too preoccupied with the way his touch seemingly affected the mysterious plant.

“What is it?” Adam asked quietly as he watched dark purple, royal blue, and charcoal grey weave through its leaves as he stroked the ridges of each leaf. It reminded him of the Northern Lights.

“Fuck if I know,” Ronan said brusquely. After a moment of silence, Ronan spoke again in a much gentler voice, almost nervous. “I was dreaming and thinking of you. Do you remember that clearing we found last Spring, near that tree with the fucked up trunk, and I kissed you to make you shut up about stupid homework --”

“Hey, I was nervous about it!” Adam interrupted with a frown.

“Whatever, you were ruining the moment, Parrish. Anyway, I went back there this morning.” Adam looked away from Ronan then and back down to his little plant. He felt oddly protective of it and didn’t want to stop caressing its velvety leaves.

“I was in the clearing and leaning up against that tree listening to Eddie Vedder.” Adam’s eyebrows rose a bit in surprise. Ronan never ceased to surprise him.

“ _Constellations_ came on, and something made me open my eyes.” Ronan watched the plant, too, as the colors swirled beneath Adam’s touch. They weren’t surface level colors, it was much stranger than that. It was almost as if the pigment of each leaf shifted and flowed as if Adam were its lifeforce.

“I opened my eyes, and these plants were growing everywhere, and I kept hearing this rustling in my ear, it was weird as shit.”

“What was it?” Adam asked, entranced by Ronan’s story.

“I don’t know. I think maybe these plants, maybe trying to tell me something, but I’m not you.”

Adam wanted to place his plant next to his fireflies, but he didn’t want to stop touching it either, so he sat it in his lap to pull out the last item from the box. Adam reached in and felt the softest fabric he had ever touched and pulled out a folded patchwork quilt. It was made of a palette of green, all different shades of green swirling together and bending to mimic blades of grass and misshapen leaves. Where each pattern ended, it picked back up on the next patch, and it swirled in Adam’s vision, almost, and reminded him of Van Gogh’s artwork.

All of it was devastatingly beautiful in the way that Ronan Lynch was devastatingly beautiful, and Adam felt as if something was shifting here, mending him, or them, somehow binding them together. While this conclusion was slightly overwhelming, it didn’t scare Adam. Instead, he was relieved and excited, and if he ever had a doubt that what he felt for Ronan was _love_ , then this night was the ultimate catalyst that made up his mind.

He sat the empty box on the floor and shook out the quilt. He held up the edge in an invitation, pressed himself as close as he could to Ronan when he laid down, and pressed a kiss to his chest as he closed his eyes to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Only a small scene of our boys as the small apartment above St. Agnes becomes a bit more welcoming.
> 
> \---
> 
> I don't intend on expanding the original Constellations, but I had this little scene in my head all day.

When Ronan arrived at St. Agnes’ tiny apartment, he found it void of one Adam Parrish, and he became remarkably sad. It had been a bad day, full of nightmares of his father’s death and hospital beds and deep, ugly scars, nauseating emotions that he couldn’t quite identify, and he knew that Adam would understand without Ronan even uttering a word.

But Adam wasn’t here, and Ronan was sad and disappointed and he missed that boy desperately. Ronan thought Adam was off today, but maybe he remembered incorrectly, or he probably picked up an extra shift. Adam was going to work himself to death, and that thought made Ronan even sadder.

Ronan peered around the tiny drafty apartment and noticed how much lighter it felt than the other night when Adam moved in. His gaze fell on Cabeswater’s blanket, folded neatly at the foot of Adam’s bed, and Ronan couldn’t help but give a tiny quirk of a smile. He laid down on Adam’s bed and pulled the blanket up. It emanated warmth as if he were laying in a field in Cabeswater with the sun beaming down on his face and chest, and it smelled like Adam and home and moss and seawater. Ronan felt the tension begin to melt from his neck as he closed his eyes. When he reopened them a minute later, his gaze drifted over to his sleeping fireflies. He had never seen his fireflies not active at the Barns, but everything Ronan created always seemed to react differently towards Adam in a beautiful and unique way. Adam’s Northern Light, as Adam had named it, had almost tripled in size in the last three days, and once again Ronan marveled over Adam and closed his eyes again, finally somewhat at ease. Adam was just as unique and powerful and magical as Adam claimed Ronan to be, and he wished he could find the words to convey that to Adam.

The way his strong hands delicately touched any plant, soil, and water source, and immediately understood, made it livelier, felt what it felt, and became overwhelmed with it all, his eyes glassy, always giving him away. How Ronan’s dream things flocked to Adam almost as much, if not more, than they did to Ronan, which made sense since Adam was his _everything_ , but Ronan still always found himself in awe of Adam Parrish.

Hours later, Ronan sleepily blinked awake to a feather-light caress across his head. He lifted his face just barely and found Adam peering down at him with a small smile as his fireflies danced happily past Adam in their jar.

“Hey, you,” Adam said as he sat down on the edge of the bed next to Ronan and smiled again at Ronan’s cocooned form beneath his blanket. “How long have you been here?”

Ronan’s only response before he closed his eyes again was “I’m taking this blanket back.”

“I’m going to hop in the shower really quick,” Adam said as he swatted at Ronan. “I expect this blanket to be here when I come back.” Ronan only grunted in response.

As the sun descended, the apartment became shrouded in shadows. Where there had once been odd, flawed, human-shaped shadows that lurked in the corners that Ronan knew once terrified Adam, they were softer now, not quite as ominous and heavy. They no longer wore heavy boots or tarnished belt buckles, and they no longer carried shapes that resembled glass bottles. The shadows ceased to linger in the threshold that led to the small bathroom and waited for Adam to enter, nor did they drunkenly lounge in the chipped and scuffed wooden chair that sat at his desk. 

Ronan’s fireflies illuminated the room in a dim, comforting glow while his Northern Light seemed to suck in any insecurities and fears, and Ronan let out a contented sigh when he realized that his dream things had done and were continuously doing exactly what he had intended for them to do: to comfort Adam when Ronan couldn’t be there, to make him feel safe.

Ronan heard the shower turn off and he grudgingly sat up and stood. He padded over to the bathroom door and knocked lightly so that he wouldn’t startle Adam. When Adam turned to look at him, Ronan admired how beautiful Adam was even in sweatpants and an old tank top of Ronan’s that was too big on his thin frame, and Ronan wrapped his arms around Adam, engulfed him, and tucked his face in his favorite spot where Adam’s throat met his shoulder.

“Missed me?” Adam said playfully, and Ronan only hummed against Adam’s skin. “You okay?” Adam asked a second later, “you’ve barely said anything.”

“I am now,” Ronan murmured audibly only enough for Adam to vaguely hear it.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Constellations *aesthetic*](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27825409) by Anonymous 




End file.
